


Dear Future Husband

by thecomebackkids99



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Dear Future Husband, F/M, Married Life, Married! Olicity, lots of fluff, mayor oliver
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 21:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8302334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecomebackkids99/pseuds/thecomebackkids99
Summary: On a dark, rainy night, Oliver and Felicity join together as husband and wife. It takes a few weeks, but Donna Smoak finally forgives them for not inviting her to the wedding, and shows up at the Loft with a little gift for Oliver: A diary written by a fourteen-year-old Felicity. The title?





	1. The Diary

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea from Megan Trainor's song, Dear Future Husband. This will be fluffy, sweet chapters based on the song that I hope will make people smile. I decided to write a 'prologue' of sorts, and then I'll post the chapters every now and then. Hope y'all like it!

It happened on a bright, spring day in May. Friends and family surrounded them, along with a multitude of flowers scattered around, thanks to Donna. They stood at the fashioned altar, Felicity wearing her white, lace long sleeve dress and Oliver in his tux. When they said ‘I do’, the crowd cheered. Oliver leaned in close to kiss her and―

If only it happened like that. 

Oliver winced as the van went over a rut. Every little jostle hurt his wounds. Maybe drugs would be a better option. But no, he needed his head and his body. Even if everything ached. He glanced at Felicity who sat opposite him. Usually she sat up front with Diggle, but Wild Dog sent them back there. It was a nice try to put them together for a few moments, but Evelyn and Curtis joined them, though they sat near the front, fiddling with their weapons. His kind-of fiancée set her tablet to the side and reached for his hands. He loosened his grip on his bleeding arm and reached towards her. A smile widened her face.

“Oliver, if we die today…”

He knew they could, so he didn’t correct her.

“I want to die as your wife.”

 _What_? He leaned closer to her, searching her eyes for teasing. No, she couldn’t be serious. But she kept smiling. He could feel his own smile begin as he continued to look at her. She wasn’t kidding. He could work with this. “ _Now_ you say yes?”

“If I jump on you and scream yes, people will hear us and you’ll get hurt. _More_ hurt.”

So they got married. Diggle officiated, thanks to Felicity’s computer skills. They defeated Prometheus, and told the rest of their family. Including Donna Smoak. Who promptly screamed, then fell to the ground in shock, and then yelled at them for not inviting her. It took a while to come up with a way to explain why they’d been sitting in a black stealth van with only his sister, an ex-bodyguard, and three random people as their witnesses. Thankfully Donna didn’t ask why she didn’t see any wedding photos.

Two weeks after the marriage, Oliver opened the Loft door to see his new mother-in-law sitting in the corridor. “Donna. What are you doing here?”

“Do I need to have a reason to come see my son-in-law?”

“Uh, no. Come in. Felicity’s not here.” And if she asked why, he’d have to lie. His wife went to the lair a few minutes ago to retrieve information on a new bad dude running around the city. Oliver still suffered from the injuries from two weeks ago, meaning he took care of Mayor and Green Arrow duties from the Loft.

“Oh, I wasn’t coming to see her. I wanted to see you. I’m actually happy she’s not here. I have something for you.” She took a seat on the couch and pulled out a book. A diary, if he wasn’t mistaken. “Since you got married before I could give you a fancy wedding gift, I decided I’d give you a nice anniversary gift next year because you both have plenty. But I wanted to give you this. It’s a little…” she giggled. “A gift from mother to son.”

Oliver took the book, tentative to open it. If glitter exploded at any time…He popped open the cover, narrowing his eyes at the title. “Donna, what is this?”

“It’s Felicity’s diary.”

“It’s definitely her handwriting.” Albeit a less sloppy version of it. “But the title? Dear Future Husband?”

“I thought you could use a little from a teenage version of your wife on how to keep her happy. You two haven’t had the best examples on how to stay together, or how to stay happy, or how to stay faithful. Felicity isn’t always the best at expressing her feelings or emotions. So I thought you’d like this.”

Oliver fanned through the pages, smiling at the little glimpses of writing he saw. He looked up at Donna, who shifted in her seat. “Thank you. This means a lot. I never thought that Felicity would’ve kept a diary like this.”

“You are very welcome.” She reached across the coffee table and clasped his hand. “You’re a good man, Oliver. I’m sure you’re already an amazing husband, and you’ll be an amazing father. Now I’m going to go because I’m sure once Felicity comes back, you have things planned.” Before Oliver could react and say that they actually had _other_ plans―taking bad guys down would take up a good part of their night―she kissed him on the cheek, waved, and left the Loft, calling behind her a, “Love you!”

Oliver kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and slumped back against the chair. With a sly smile, he opened the diary.

This would be a lot of fun.


	2. Chapter 2

_Dear Future Husband,_

_I’m writing this because I’m bored. Well, not bored. I’m on my period and my stomach hurts and I’m already tired of being a woman. So I thought I’d start this diary and hope that someday I get married and I can give this to my hubby (that’s the cheesy way of saying husband if you didn’t know, and I will never, ever be calling you that, just so you know) so that I don’t have to explain how hard he’s gonna have to work to keep me. So without further ado:_

_Take me on dates. Lots of dates. Like if I’m feeling down or whatever, grab my hand and whisk me off to some fancy restaurant. Even if I complain and say that my work is more important. I’m telling you right now: I’m stubborn. Don’t listen to me._

 

“Uggggggghhh!”

Oliver glanced up from his desk when Felicity groaned and slammed her head onto her keyboard. He saved the Mayoral document he’d been working on for three days and hopped up the three stairs that led to her work base in the lair. “Hey. What’s going on?”

“It’s the stupid, no-good, blasted…go away.”

“No.”

“Oliver, go away.”

“Felicity.” He pulled up a chair, but didn’t touch her. He’d learned his lesson on that one. “Tell me what’s going on. We’re partners, remember? You can tell me what’s wrong. Please.”

“I-It’s the…” she hiccupped. “I was working on an email to Kord Industries and my computer just shut down and that’s just the beginning of it. And I was trying to get coordinates of that new guy that’s been running around and I―”

“Honey.” He spun her chair towards him and scooted closer so that their knees touched. It took a few tries, thanks to her expertise in avoiding him, but he grabbed Felicity’s hands in his and smiled. “Take a deep breath. Okay? Breathe. Good. Now slowly tell me what happened.”

She spun away from him and started typing, drawing up the police scanner again. Then she took several deep breaths and turned towards him again. “I was emailing Kord Industries about the prototype that our company is hoping to acquire. I had the whole thing typed up to the CEO and then it deleted. On the other computer I was working on the coordinates of the not-so scarlet speedster and the scan was almost done when it quit.”

“Much better. I understand what happened now. Is there a way that you can retrieve anything? Like reset―”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?”

He stopped, pursing his lips as he realized what he needed to do. Thanks to that entry he read this morning, everything was laid out perfectly for him. “Okay. Do you have extra clothes around here?”

“My clothes are just fine, thank you very much.”

“Not for where we’re going.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”   

“Yes, you are.”

“Oliver!” She leveled a stage ten glare that should only be directed at Slade Wilson. “Go. Away.”

“No.”

“Can’t you take a hint? I want to be alone.”

“Well, you don’t have to be alone, and that means that you’re going to get that dress that I know you have in the bedroom down there and I will meet you upstairs in ten minutes. And I do have a phone and I do know how to use the security cameras, so if you sit here or try to sneak out the back door, I will know.”

She slapped her hand on the desk and pushed herself up. “Fine. I’ll be upstairs in _eight_.”

Oliver flashed her a smile, ignoring the second nasty look from his wife. He glanced in the mirror, thankful that he still wore his suit from the meeting earlier today. On his way up the stairs that led to the now-cleared out campaign office, he dialed the restaurant he had in mind, talking himself out of the panic he suddenly felt when no one answered for the first few rings. They had to be open, right? When a woman answered, spouting a name and several key phrases Oliver didn’t care about, he said, “I’d like to make a reservation for tonight. For two.”

“I’m sorry, but we’re all booked for tonight. But we are open tomorrow night.”

Just as he feared. And just his luck. “Okay. Uh―”

“Wait, is this the Mayor?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my, Mr. Queen! I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was you. Listen, we can arrange for you and…Mrs. Queen, I’m assuming, to have a private room. What time are you hoping to be here?”

_If Mrs. Queen cooperates, fifteen minutes._ “Twenty minutes. Thank you so much, ma’am.”

“Who’re you talking to?”

He turned towards his wife’s voice, his heart stuttering when he laid eyes on her. It was strange, really. Every day he woke up beside this woman. Well, almost every day, that is. And each morning, he smiled and wondered how he’d ever come to deserve her. Here she stood, in a red dress, her blonde hair pulled into a fancy ponytail that he couldn’t explain, looking just as beautiful as the day he met her. “I was just, uh,” he slid the phone into his pocket and gestured her closer. “Getting us a registration. It comes in handy to be the mayor.”

“I always told you that good things would come from that.”

“Hilarious. C’mon.” He extended his hand, but Felicity stomped past him, the hard clicking against the ground making sure he knew that she didn’t want to go. But he knew her well. This was her ‘I’m too stubborn to admit I need a break every now and then’ act that she’d perfected over the years. Thankfully he knew how to work around that.  

“Y’know, Oliver.” She stopped at the door, ten feet from the car. If he could just get her into the car. For heaven’s sakes. “I just remembered that I have a software on my computer that Curtis designed that will bring my email and security scan back. You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I will get it all―”

“Felicity Smoak.” He put his hand on the small of her back and gave her a push. “You need a break. You _deserve_ a break. So you are going to get in the car and I’m going to take you out to dinner. I already made dinner reservations, and the Mayor of Star City can’t just not show up to dinner with his wife. Imagine the tabloids. Let’s go.”

Without a word, she marched to the car and slid into the passenger seat. With a smirk, Oliver shut her door and went to his side of the car. They drove the ten minutes in silence. Felicity stared out the window, only turning her head when someone cut in front of them and Oliver had to slam on the brakes. When he pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, a little sigh came from Felicity. She straightened and turned to look at him, her eyes staring to tear.

Oliver leaned in closer, a smile playing on his lips. “You still like Italian, right?”

“Just as much as I did four years ago.”

“Good. Hold on.” He stepped out of the car and opened her door. She accepted his hand and slid out, the stress and anger releasing form her face. “Ready, Mrs. Queen?”

“Well, it’s not like I can say no.”

“In my defense, you never let me say no when I didn’t want you around.”

“That’s because whenever you’re alone, you do dangerous things. I don’t.”

“There was that time that you nearly ruined my bow when you threw it across the room.”

“I didn’t catch that hacker. And I wasn’t alone.”

“I don’t care. You nearly destroyed my bow, because you didn’t beat Curtis in that hacker game you were playing.”

“And it was your fault because you were doing the salmon ladder. Which, by the way, be quiet. Someone’s looking at us.”

“I _am_ the Mayor.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Queen?”

Oliver smiled at the front-desk lady. “I called a few minutes ago about a reservation.”

“Right this way, sir.”

Felicity giggled as they followed the woman down a hall. “Guess Curtis isn’t the only one who calls you sir.”

The waiter took their wine orders before leaving them in the quiet, artistic private dining room. Felicity flipped her napkin over her lap and sent Oliver a flirty look. “I feel like we should get up a do an awkward hug and then I’ll make an awful-timed comment about your constant shirtlessness. Just for old times’ sake.”

“As long as it doesn’t involve being blown up.”

After the waiter brought their wine and took their orders, Felicity scooted her chair closer to Oliver. He didn’t know whether or not to run away or move closer to her. This could go two ways. Either she would throw her wine glass at him or kiss him. There was no in between.

She smiled. Okay, they were all good.

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For not listening to me. And this is an exception. I promise that if you don’t listen to me during a mission, I will fry your political career and the rest of your life so easily that you won’t know what hit you.” With that, she snapped her fingers. And then smiled again. “I really needed this. A break from everything. I’ve been so busy with our nightly business and my daytime company that miraculously rose from the ashes, and we’re both still recovering from everything that happened. Anyways, _you_ ,” she stood up halfway so she could poke his chest, “really upped the sexy, amazing husband category tonight.”

His brain flashed back to the part in the diary he re-read this morning. _Oh, yes._ Oliver perked up, sending his wife a grin. “Since we’ve been married for a month already, I think you should call me hubby.”

“That is the definition of cheesy. I’m not calling you hubby.”

“Yes, you are.” His grin widened when Felicity squinted at him, that suspicious look on her face. “I want you to call me hubby. Besides, it’d be the perfect way to distract people from the fact that I’m the Green Arrow, because why would he let his wife address him with such a cheesy name. So I think it fits perfectly.”

“No.”

“Yes.” He leaned forward, his lips getting closer to those perky lips of hers. “I want you to call me hubby.”

“Do I get a kiss?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. But that knocks away some of your…hubby points.”

Oliver smiled and kissed her. After a few seconds, he pulled away and winked at her. “I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me for too long.”

When they got home after dinner and another late night at the lair, he locked the bathroom door and pulled the diary out of his hiding spot. He grabbed a pen, opened the book to the first page and wrote above the entry, ‘Accomplished’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the first chapter ready to go, so I thought I'd post it since I got so much love last night and this morning. Hope y'all like it!!!! I'm going to be experimenting with the chapters, so let me know what you enjoy/don't enjoy as much. Nothing is going to overly angsty, so expect a little cheesiness and fluff. :P  
> I will be going off of the song, but I will take prompts. My only stipulation is that they're not overly inappropriate. Just not my thing! :)


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